


Office Romance

by Dean_can_ride_my_impala



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Boss/Employee Relationship, Cock Warming, Don't Examine This Too Closely, Don't Judge, Infidelity, M/M, Not A Lot Of Plot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Shameless Smut, not any plot, this is random, this is totaly self-indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-30
Updated: 2014-04-30
Packaged: 2018-01-21 07:55:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1543325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dean_can_ride_my_impala/pseuds/Dean_can_ride_my_impala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester has a slight infidelity problem. His girlfriend, Lisa Braeden, is well aware of his sexual exploits. Which is why she has decided that she's going to choose Dean's next secretary. </p><p>It isn't her fault the guy she chooses to hire is the most fuckable guy Dean has ever seen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Office Romance

Dean is fucking hungry. His stomach is growling rather loudly, loud enough to be heard over this morning’s radio news. It’s understandable, seeing as Dean has only drank a power-shake this morning, and a spinach salad with strawberry slices and green bell peppers the day before. Yeah, he’s hungry as shit, but he has never been in better shape. Last time he checked, he was below 10% body fat, which is perfect for a thirty-one year old like himself.

But still…he is doing interviews today, and he is not going to go talk with a bunch of pretty girls with a growling stomach. That shit isn’t cool. So he drives his Prius through a Shipley Do-Nuts drive-thru and buys two glazed donuts and a bottle of milk. He can cheat a little. Lisa will never know. And it isn’t as he though doesn’t deserve it.

Still, it is with a sense of guilt that he steps off the elevator and passes by the row of sharply dressed, shapely women sitting in the hallway leading up to his office. As Director of Sales & Marketing, he has the best office in the floor, with a view of the city.

“Miss Braeden is waiting inside,” Mrs. Mosely says, not looking up from where she’s filing her nails. Dean simply nods, knowing better than to chastise her. She’s been here longer than he has, and she’s technically doing him a favor by covering for the secretary he fired two days ago.

He makes sure there’s no leftover glaze on his suit, checks his breath, gathers his strength, and pushes the door to his office open. Lisa, his girlfriend, daughter to the soon-to-be-retired Senior VP, is sitting in the chair facing his desk, slender legs crossed.

“You’re late,” she says, not turning around.

“I stopped for gas,” he lies easily, leaning in to kiss the top of her head before he sits down in his chair. “Is there a reason why you’re here?”

She looks at him with a raised eyebrow. “You’re doing interviews today.”

“Yes,” he nods without elaborating. He knows why she’s here.

“They are all beautiful,” she shrugs. “Most of them are blondes. You have a thing for blondes, right?”

“I have a thing for you,” he says, already knowing all of the answers to her little questionnaire.

“The last girl was a redhead. Was she natural?”

Dean tries not to show what he’s thinking. Yeah, Anna was a natural. Unless she dyed her pubes as well, which he doubts. He doesn’t meet Lisa’s eyes, feeling that somehow she will know that he’s thinking of how warm and snug Anna had been, how loud and eager, how much better her mouth had felt on his dick. Lisa is…bendy. But she’s strict. There’s no fun in sleeping with her. She has her two positions (missionary and cowgirl) and sticks to them. She doesn’t like sucking him off, and feels embarrassed when he tries to go down on her. It’s not like she holds out on him, she’s more than willing to do the horizontal tango…but she’s vanilla. And she likes that touchy, eye-gazing, soul-searching sex that they show in the movies. Which is fine, you know, once in a while…but he likes it a little rougher. Give and take. Hair pulling. Biting. Marking. He wants to fuck.

And that’s his problem. Because, see, Dean has a little problem with fidelity (he doesn’t feel too bad about it because he doesn’t love Lisa, and knows for a fact she doesn’t love him either) and Lisa knows it. She would be cheating, too, if she didn’t find sex so tedious. But she’s smart, and she cares about what people think, and there is no way Lisa Braeden is going to date a guy who fucks his secretary. So she had Anna fired.

Dean doesn’t really mind. Anna wasn’t very good at her job (the one she was paid for, at least) and she had begun to get a bit clingy. The only problem now is that Lisa wants a say in who he hires. And if Dean wants that new promotion, he’s going to have to listen to her.

“I don’t know,” he finally answers her question. “I think so?”

Lisa makes a disbelieving sound but doesn’t pursues the issue. “I talked to my father. He has a friend in the Indianapolis branch and his PA recently moved here and needs a job. They come with stellar reviews. They’re waiting outside.”

Dean blinks, surprised. He knows better than to think he can turn down her suggestion, but the hallway is full of beautiful women, since Missouri knows exactly what Dean is looking for. She may not approve, but that’s not her job, and she’s nothing if not efficient. If one of those women outside has the body _and_ the mind to please him, well then Lisa is giving him a wrapped gift. He schools his features into indifference though, and nods.

“Name?”

“Castiel Novak.”

Weird name. He can imagine her, though. Nerdy, with thick-rimmed glasses, knee-length straight skirt with a white blouse that is too small to fit her thick breasts. He may have watched a little too much Casa Erotica last night.

Dean shakes the thought of what basically has become a slutty professor off his head and clicks the intercom on his desk phone. “Mrs. Moseley? Send Castiel Novak in, please.”

“Yes, sir,” Missouri says, and Dean can hear the smile in her face. Lisa smiles too, more like a smirk, really, and it takes the minute that it takes for Castiel to open the door for him to realize why Lisa looks so smug.

Castiel Novak is a guy. And it’s not like he’s a twink or slightly effeminate like some of the guys he sees around doing favors for the creepy higher ups who like to pretend it’s not gay if you don’t touch the other guy’s dick.

Oh, no. Castiel is tall, only an inch or two shorter than Dean. He has wide shoulders and thick runners’ thighs. He has a five o’ clock shadow on a somewhat oval-shaped face and a square jaw. Despite his strong, defined features, he has thick, chapped lips that give him a slightly softer look. The most striking thing about him, though, are his eyes. Dean would have to create an entire new name to describe their shade of blue, because _fuck_ , it’s like looking at lightning reflected in the ocean. 

And that is too poetic for a Monday morning, so he tries to focus on the collar of Castiel’s navy blue suit and his backward tie.

“Good morning, Mr. Winchester,” Castiel says, and if Dean had any doubt that Castiel was a guy, it faded away with that voice. Dean new his voice was pretty gruff, but Castiel’s was in a whole other level. It must hurt the guy to speak in such a low timbre. “Good morning, Miss Braeden.”

“Hello, Mr. Novak,” Lisa says, giving him a simpering smile. “C’mon, take a seat.”

Castiel obeys and takes the seat next to her. The difference between the two is striking. And not just because of Castiel’s penis. Lisa’s eyes are warm and brown. Castiel’s are icy—and like aforementioned in detail—blue. Castiel’s hair is dark and wild, like he didn’t even try to comb it. Lisa’s is black and perfectly styled to give it volume and shine. Lisa is pretty. Castiel is gorgeous.

“Uh, Lisa tells me you’ve worked at Sandover before?” Dean starts the interview awkwardly. Lisa’s smile may probably rip her face in half.

“Yes. I was the personal assistant to Mr. Charles Shurley, Regional Manager in Indianapolis,” Castiel answers. “I managed Mr. Shurley’s hectic schedule, as well as organized daily, weekly, and monthly meetings. I was also in charge of interdepartmental communication, as well as screening all incoming calls, taking messages, and prioritizing them. In short, I was completely in charge of Mr. Shurley’s daily personal and professional activities.”

Dean is impressed. Anna couldn’t even figure out how to put a call on hold.

“Castiel speaks seven languages,” Lisa butts in. “He also has a Master’s in Business Administration from Brown, as well as a Bachelor’s in Business from Columbia University.”

Wow. “You are very well qualified. More than a PA needs,” Dean notes.

“It is a job I am good at,” Castiel shrugs. “I am not in need of money; my family comes from old money. But the job is challenging, not to mention opportunistic. It keeps me busy.”

“Novak…you mean you’re related to Michael Novak?” Dean asks, and shit. If he is, how can Dean say no? The Novaks practically built Sandover, and he knows Michael and Gabriel own the majority of shares, and Lucifer is doing pretty well in the new company he just started with Crowley Ferguson.

“Michael is my older brother,” Castiel nods. “But since I am the youngest, I was not pressured into becoming a high-powered executive like my brothers. I like being a PA.”

“Isn’t he perfect, Dean?” Lisa beams, and fuck her, but he is.

Dean doesn’t have an excuse to say no, other than the fact that he can’t very well bend him over and fuck him. And hell if that doesn’t brings images into his head. Castiel is too calm, too stoic for Dean not get fantasies of breaking through that professional wall of his and make him beg for his cock. Guess Lisa doesn’t know Dean’s bisexual.

But he’s smart, too, and he knows not to fuck the owner’s little brother. No matter how fuckable they look.

“Well, Mr. Novak…you have the job,” Dean smiles, and Castiel returns it, barely a lift of his lips, but its’ there.

Lisa smiles widely, nodding to herself. Dean pays her no mind. There are more women in Sandover than just his assistants. He’s pretty sure he can find another girl to fuck by tonight. Hopefully sooner, since the image of Castiel on his knees, mouth slicked with Dean’s come, is starting to affect him.

Fuck, he’s so screwed.

 

Things only take a turn for the worse as the days pass.

Castiel is the perfect assistant. He learned Dean’s diet in hours, and had his lunch prepared for him by that very afternoon. He also took the liberty to research a more lenient diet that would not leave him starving, but would also help him keep his body fat below 10%.

He also fired a couple of the girls Dean had hired, but since his decision increased work productivity by 29%, Dean didn’t say anything. He organized the mess Anna had made of his schedule and managed to free two hours of his time, getting him home by six, instead of the usual eight.

And he did everything with a yes, sir.

Dean had lost count of the number of times he had masturbated to the thought of Castiel. He had stopped sleeping around in the office after his almost slip up when he shouted Castiel’s name as he came inside Cassie Robinson from H.R. Luckily, he had yelled Cas, which she took as her name, and nothing else happened, but…still.

Lisa thought Castiel was an angel sent from Heaven. She knew that if Dean spent an extra hour in the shower it was because he was taking care of—issues—and if he had said issues, it meant other women weren’t taking care of them for him. So Castiel had fulfilled his purpose of cockblocking Dean.

Of course, an abstinent Dean meant a moody Dean, so it isn’t his fault that he is having a bad day three weeks after hiring Castiel.

“Castiel!” he shouts from his desk, ignoring the intercom. “Get in here!”

Castiel obeys quickly, rushing inside. Dean has caught him on his lunch time, which would explain why he doesn’t have his suit jacket on and why the sleeves of his shirt are pushed up to his elbow.

“Sir?” Castiel asks nervously, and Dean moves his eyes from the man’s muscled arms to his eyes.

“Where are the time sheets I asked for?” Dean growls.

Castiel blinks, surprised, and it takes him a moment to answer. “Time sheets?”

“Yes, from finance. I asked you to get them yesterday,” Dean says sternly. “Did you do it?”

“No, sir,” Castiel whispers, staring at the ground. “I’m sorry.”

“Goddamn it, Castiel!” Dean snaps. But he has to control his temper. Castiel isn’t just any other employee. Dean can’t very well fire him, even though that would solve all of his problems. He is sure that if it comes to an altercation, he will be the one without a job, not Castiel. “I’m sorry,” he grits out. “I’m just…a bit stressed. Seeing as it is your job to keep me from sleeping around, I hope you understand why I’m in a bad mood?”

Castiel blinks again, and his eyes widen. “I—I didn’t know that was my job. Aren’t you…I mean, you are dating Miss Braeden.”

“Yeah, only because I want first pick at the Senior VP position once her father retires,” Dean shrugs. It isn’t a secret. Everybody knows that the only reason why Dean puts up with Lisa is because he wants that promotion. He isn’t the only who thought about it, he’s just the only one who managed to convince Lisa to go through with it. “Once I got that in the bag, it’s bye-bye Lisa, hello single-life.”

Castiel still looks nervous. His eyes stare at everything but Dean, and he is wringing his hands nervously in front of him. “I—if you want to sleep with someone, I won’t tell Miss Braeden. You are my boss, and it is my job to keep your secrets, Mr. Winchester.”

Dean raises an eyebrow, surprised. He didn’t expect that. He thought Cas was too straight-laced, too moral to condone infidelity. He has to admit, knowing that Cas is thinking about him having sex with other women is kind of hot, and the blush playing on the older man’s cheeks is turning him on.

“It doesn’t matter,” Dean says carefully. “If I sleep with anybody else, Lisa will have them fired like she did with Anna. I think you’re the only one she wouldn’t dare fire. But it’s not like I can ask you to come suck my cock, right?”

Castiel jumps at the crude preposition, eyes wide and mouth open as he stares at Dean. He knows he is taking a pretty big chance here. Castiel could have him in the streets with one word, and he could ruin any chances Dean had of getting another job with a neatly typed letter.

But instead, Castiel stammers a reply. “I-it is my job to—uh, to do whatever y-you ask of m-me.”

Fuck. Cas will be the death of him. He palms his hardened cock through his slacks, and he grins when Castiel’s eyes follow the movement. His arousal has pushed the blue of his eyes to the edges to be replaced by black lust, and from where he’s standing, Dean can see the dent of his cock in front of his slacks.

“Close the door,” he orders, and Castiel scrambles to obey, moving to stand next to Dean once he has locked the door. “Kneel.”

Again, Castiel obeys mindlessly, drops to his knees in front of Dean and eyes his cock with a hungry expression.

“Fuck, you want this, right?” he grins, and Castiel nods. “You want to have my cock in your mouth, don’t you? Probably thought about it since your first saw me, right?” Again, Cas nods and Dean suppress a moan. “Ever sucked cock before, Castiel?” he asks, unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his slacks.

“O-once,” Castiel murmurs, eyes trained on Dean’s hands. “Senior year of high school.”

“Got fucked that day, too?” Dean asks, pulling down his zipper and tries to picture it: Cas on his knees, crying and begging as his asshole is split open by thick, pulsing cock.

But Cas shakes his head, no. “H-he was too drunk.”

“His loss,” Dean murmurs. “Ever been fucked, then?”

Again, Cas shakes his head and raises his hands to grab on to Dean’s thighs. “Can I?” he whispers, leaning in unconsciously.

“Go ahead,” Dean murmurs.

Castiel moves slowly, as if still hesitant. He grabs the band of Dean’s underwear and pulls it down to free his hard cock. Dean moans as the air hits it, giving him goose bumps, and Castiel glances up at him, eyes curious.

“Go ahead,” Dean repeats, bucking up, trying to get his cock near Castiel’s face.

Castiel obeys, like always, and leans in to kiss at the thick head, tongue pressing in on the slit.

“Fuck!” Dean hisses.

Castiel seems to take confidence from that, and sinks lower, letting his mouth warm wrap around Dean’s aching cock. Slowly, but surely, he starts sucking him off.

And Dean can’t believe this is his first time sucking a fucking cock, because the guy is a pro. Fuck, it’s like he has no fucking gag reflex, because Dean can feel his throat muscles gripping the head of his cock tightly, can feel it when Cas swallows or groans. And his tongue, god his tongue, wraps around his shaft, pushes at the sensitive skin under his head, licks at his balls when he goes down. His teeth scrape just on the right side of pain, and his lips…Dean is seriously going to die here.

“Fuck, Cas. Yeah, just like that,” Dean murmurs, eyes closed as he fucks up into Cas’ mouth. “Fucking such my cock. You like that, Cas? Like me fucking your mouth?”

Cas moans again, and lets go of his cock, making a lewd popping noise, but he doesn’t stop, and lowers his mouth even lower to suck on Dean’s balls, and god…some girls forget that balls need just as much attention as dicks, but not Castiel.

Dean is _leaking_ , fucking blobs of precome dripping down his shaft, but Castiel just licks them, _lathers_ Dean in spit and precome until the room is full of wet, slick sounds and moans, and groans, and these _obscene_ and _filthy_ sounds that Castiel is making.

“Fuck, Cas,” Dean groans, because not only does it feel good, but it _sounds_ good.

There’s a dark spot on the front of Cas’ khakis, and Dean would think he has come already, except his dick is still pitching a tent, so he moves his shoe, presses softly on the hot bulge, and Cas simply _sobs_ , his hand dropping down to press Dean’s foot harder down.

“You look so fucking hot,” Dean growls. “Just like this, on your fucking knees, begging to suck my cock. Shit, I want to fuck you so bad, Castiel. Want to just bend you over this desk and eat you out. Want that, Cas? Want me to fuck you with my tongue, get your good and dripping wet, and then just split you open with my cock? I fucking bet you would look so pretty, Castiel, all spread out for me. You want that, right? Of course you do, you fucking slut.”

Castiel lets go of his cock again, and stands up, and Dean panics for a little, thinking he has said something wrong, but Cas simply turns around and fucking _bends over and_ presents _to him_ , ass high in the air, and then he turns, turns his fucking stupidly adorable head, and stares at him as if saying, _well what are you waiting for_?

And Dean didn’t get this far in the business by wasting opportunities, especially when they’re so deliciously presented to him. So he reaches forward and grabs Cas’ ass in his hands, and it’s a fucking perfect ass. Yeah, Dean is bisexual, has known since his junior year in high school in Jo Harvelle’s party where he got drunk enough to fuck one of his team mates, a guy name Aaron or something. Since that day, he has fucked only two other guys: a bear of a man named Benny that liked taking complete control despite Dean’s dick in his ass, and a cop he only remembers as Officer Henrickson that he fucked in the back of a cop car with cuffs still hanging from one of his wrists. So yeah, he’s bisexual and knows it, but he has always preferred girls to guys. It’s just something about their supple breasts, the way they get dripping wet for him, their soft hair spilling around their head as he fucks them into the mattress.

Yet, right now, there’s nothing he wants more than Cas. He could have a dozen fucking girls in front of him, all dripping wet and spread open for him, and he would still choose Cas.

Cas whines, pushing back into his hands, and Dean is brought back into his current situation. He grins and kneads Cas’ ass, cupping the two perfect, firm globes, pushing his thumbs into his crack, then slipping a hand between his legs, massaging his perineum as he moves to grab his throbbing cock.

Cas is whimpering, pushing back on his hands unconsciously, and his thighs are shaking. His forehead is resting on the desk, and his hands are fists against the hard wood, and he looks like he’s lost to the world, but obeys immediately when Dean pulls on his waist to raise his hips, allows him to pull his pants and boxers down to pool on the floor.

“Fuck,” Dean groans as he lifts Cas so that his knees rest on the desk. Cas tries to raise his head, blushing, but Dean pushes him down. Like this, with his head pressed on the wood, his knees lifted high, his ass is presented to Dean, spread open at eye level.

“I don’t have any lube,” he mumbles, pressing a dry thumb to the dusty pink hole. Cas’ balls are tight, ready to blow at any moment, and his dick hangs heavy and dick between his legs. With his other hand, he rubs where his balls meet his perineum, presses down harder when Cas makes an adorable, hiccupping noise.

“I-I don’t c-care,” Cas whispers, and he already sounds wrecked. Dean has barely touched him, hasn’t done more but rub the wrinkly rim, press down on his balls…and he looks so ready to cum. “P-please, Dean.”

“You sound oddly comfortably saying my name,” Dean says, grinning. “I call that insubordination.”

“I-I’m sorry, M-Mr. Winchester,” Cas pants. “P-please, sir, p-please.”

Dean thanks his hedonistic ways, because without them, he would have already blown his load. Instead, he smirks and leans down to lick a stripe from Cas’ balls to his hole, pressing the tip of his tongue inside, and sinks his grips Cas’ hips tighter as the man cries out and tries to pull away.

“Stay still,” he murmurs, biting down on one cheek before moving to lick another flat-tongued stripe. Cas tastes like apple-scented soap and another, heavier taste that he can’t describe but seems entirely _Cas_. The taste is different, not something he’s used to, but then again, he’s only ever eating a girl’s ass before. Still, it’s not as bad as one would think, so he points his tongue and presses harder against the rim, breaching the trembling skin.

“Y-you don’t— _ugh—_ d-don’t have to…to do— _ahh! Ungh—_ that!” Cas cries out, but he’s pushing back, shoving his ass on Dean’s face. “S-sir, I can—can t-take it! It’s o— _oh!_ —okay.”

“Did you take a shower this morning?” Dean asks, ignoring him. Cas smells too much like soap, tastes too much like shampoo.

“Y-yes, sir!”

“You fingered yourself, right? ‘Cause you taste so fucking good, Cas,” he moans, and proceeds to lather the skin, sucking, kissing, licking, biting…fucking eating him out and stretching the rim with his fingers until Cas is gaping wide. And Cas _loves it_.

He can’t say anything, his words getting lost somewhere in his throat and coming out as breathless whimpers, hiccupping sounds, dry sobs…fuck, it’s like Dean’s own personal porn concert. The only words left in his extensive vocabulary seems to be _yes!_ and _please!_

The way Dean has his positions makes it so that he doesn’t have to hold his cheeks apart, so he uses his hands to caress Cas’ body, reaching up to rub his nipples, running his fingers down the trembling skin until he reaches Cas’ cock and teases the head. Cas is crying, full blown sobs leaving him and making his body shake and tremble, yet he begs for more.

“P-please! Please, s-sir. I need—need more, please,” Cas begs.

“Oh, I think I can stretch you out even more,” Dean grins, wiping his slick mouth with the back of his hand. “What do you think?”

Cas struggles to lean on his elbows, reaches back with one hand to pull at his ass cheeks, spreading himself even more, and arches like a cat in heat. “I-I’m ready, sir,” he whines. “Please, I need y-your…your c-cock in me.”

“Oh, fuck, baby, love it when you beg,” Dean groans. He moves back and pulls Cas by his waist, helping him settle his feet on the ground again, but keeps his chest plastered on the desk. Cas obeys like he was born to be like this, bent and spread open, dripping wet for Dean. He’s ready to blow, he’s harder than he has been for year, and there’s a chant of _fuckcasfuckcasfuckcas_ in his head that he’s sure is coming directly from his dick.

He spits on his hand and lathers his dick, wincing as shocks of pleasure shoot from his dick to his brain, but he’s Dean-fucking-Winchester, and he doesn’t blow his load early.

So he bites down on his lip, grips Cas waist with a bruising hand, and uses the other to guide his throbbing cock inside that tight, wet hole that’s ready and clenching for him.

Cas cries out at the first breaching, and Dean hears the unmistakable sound of nails scraping on wood, but he doesn’t care. He’s too busy fighting to stay hard, and it’s almost impossible because Cas is hot, and tight, and wet, and oh fuck he’s clenching around him, getting used to his length, and he feels every drag of those walls around him

“Fuck, Cas, you feel so fucking good around my cock,” Dean moans, jerking a little at a particular hard clench. “Wanna fuck you so hard, pound into you until you’re split open and leaking my come. Fuck, you’re never going to want another cock in your ass. You’ll be hungry for me, begging me to fuck you every day. And I’ll do it, Cas. Shit, I will fuck you every day if you want.”

“Yes!” Cas whines. “Yes, please, sir! F-fuck me! I want you—want you to f-fuck me. Please, please, m-move!”

Dean growls because this is too good, feels too good, and if he moves, he’s going to come. But Cas is begging him, looking back at him with black-pooled eyes, red-bitten lips, mouth open and gasping, hair wild, and he can’t say no to that face. So he gets a grip, pulls himself together, and drags his cock out of that tight heat, only to push inside again, deeper.

Cas cries out and pushes back, arches his back and whines, and then Dean is doing it again. Pulling back only to pound back in. He keeps doing it, and doing it, fucking Cas with all he has, pounding inside him, hearing his balls slap against his ass, the scrape of his desk on the wooden floor, and Cas fucking little gasps.

He grips those fucking razor-sharp hipbones with a bruising hand, reaches forward to grab a fistful of Cas’ hair and pulls on it as he lets himself get lost in that tight heat, pushing, digging, driving into him, fucking him hard and fast, until there’s nothing but Cas, Cas all around him.

“Oh! Yes, yes, yes! Just like that! Please, harder, harder! Please, sir! R-right, right there!” Cas pants, and he’s fucking himself on Dean’s cock, pushing back to meet every thrust, scrambling to get a grip on the smooth surface of the desk, get some leverage to push back and get Dean as deep inside himself as he can.

“S-say my name,” Dean growls, draping himself over Cas to nip and bite at the man’s muscled back, loving the way he feels them shifting underneath him. “Scream it out loud. W-Want everyone to know who ruined you, who you’re begging for. C’mon, Cas, say it!”

“ _D-Dean!_ ” Cas yells, completely debauched. “Dean, please! Feels so—so good, Dean. So g-good for me, Dean.”

“ _Fuck_!” Dean shouts, and with another hard push, he’s coming. Fuck, he’s coming hard inside Cas, feels his come, hot and sticky, drive deep inside Cas. And Cas is crying out loud, arching his back and plastering himself against Dean, mouth open and panting, eyes screwed shut as he comes too, thick, hot spurts of come that splatter on Dean’s desk and ruin what probably are important documents but he could care less now.

Dean wraps his arms around Cas waist and staggers back, falling on his chair with Cas on his laps, and they both wince because Dean is still inside Cas, and they’re both sensitive as fuck, but it feels nice to be like this.

Cas’ back is sweaty and Dean’s shirt is sticking to his skin, but neither seem to care. With his arms still wrapped around Cas’ middle, Dean starts to kiss Cas’ neck, nipping softly at the tender skin and leaving small marks.

Cas lets him, mostly because he’s dazed out and too high on endorphins to care, and moves his head to the side to give him more space to mark.

“M-Mr. Winchester?”

Dean snorts, “Cas, my dick is your ass. You can call me Dean.”

Cas blushes brightly, and it’s simply adorable. “It’s just…y-you don’t have to be with Miss Braeden if you won’t want to.”

Dean stops and closes his eyes. This conversation is familiar to him. A lot of the girls he has slept with tell him the same thing. Break up with Lisa, be with me. You don’t want her, you don’t need her. But he does, he needs the job she can give him, because he’s good in money now, but Sam is in college, and Adam is in his senior year and he wants to go to Brown, and thankfully the kid is smart enough to go, and Bobby’s shop needs some maintenance, and Ellen’s bar has two mortgages, and it’s up him to help them.

But it feels so good to be with Cas. He’s never had this before. Usually, he’s the type to just fuck and go. But this is good, this is perfect. Cas is perfect, and Dean feels that if he had a little more freedom, a little more time, he and Cas could be good together. The sex certainly is good enough that he won’t ever need for anybody else, but it’s not like Cas will wait for him. Cas is too good to be the secret mistress, too good to hide in the shadows while he goes on and pretends to have the perfect relationship with Lisa.

And he’s too good to wait for Dean to end the relationship. Dean can’t ask him to do that for him, not for just the _chance_ that they will work out. Cas is too good to be anybody’s second choice.

“Cas…I need the job,” he finally answers.

“You have the job,” Cas says instantly, and that’s even worse. Because, yeah, right now he’s with Lisa for what she can give him, but not Cas. He’s not about to ask Cas to get him the job, even though he could. He doesn’t want something like that to be between—whatever it is that they have.

“You don’t have to do that,” Dean whispers, kissing Cas’ shoulder. “Not you.”

“I know, Dean,” Cas says, and he laughs, surprising Dean. “I meant…you already have the job. You’ve been on Michael’s radar ever since that Bradbury deal you bagged three months ago. You really think he would’ve let me work for you so easily if he didn’t think you had potential?”

Dean stares at Cas, mouth open in surprise. “I-I got the…the job?”

“Yeah,” Cas says, wide, gummy smile in place. “You’re really good at your job, Dean,” he adds softly. “So…you don’t have to be with Lisa…unless you want to, of course.”

“Cas,” Dean says firmly, and squeezes him harder. Cas gasps, feeling Dean still inside him, and moans softly. “Cas, I will go home, and I will talk with Lisa. And then, I’m going to pick you up at seven from your apartment, and we’re going out on a date, okay?”

Cas smiles, so soft and wide, and his eyes wrinkly a bit in the corners, and he leans forward to kiss him. And Dean is inside him, has his cock inside him, and had his tongue inside him, but this…this kiss is what’s truly intimate.

“Yeah, okay.”


End file.
